


Seeing Me In Your Eyes

by genagirl



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, First Times, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genagirl/pseuds/genagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeing Me In Your Eyes

Seeing Me In Your Eyes

Previously appeared in the zine "Tongues Will Wag 2"

By Gena 

 

Cory Lewin saw his chance for revenge coming across campus and took it.

"Hey, Blair!"

Blair Sandburg turned, eyes scanning the quad. A figure was loping towards him, backpack bouncing as he hurried. "Cory," he swore under his breath. He did not want to face this particular annoyance at the moment. Lewin was another teaching fellow, one who worked for the same grants he did, just not quiet so successfully. "Hey, man, what’s goin’ on?" Blair asked as the man slid to a stop in front of him. Blair didn’t like the sardonic grin spread across Lewin’s wide face or the dark eyes which snapped with menace. 

"Look, I was talkin’ to Richards," Lewin began in a smug tone, "he was tellin’ me about your big time police connections. Said last semester when you were on crutches was because of a gunshot wound and that’d you’d gone a few rounds with a serial killer before that."

Blair narrowed his eyes, trying to determine where Lewin was going with this, "yeah. I work with the cops. It’s kind of dangerous but......," he shrugged and offered a slight smile. He’d heard Lewin muttering to some of his cronies about the "cop’s little buddy". The U’s grapevine had placed Lewin in the middle of a few illegal activities, nothing major, but if it had ever been proven Lewin would be out of a job just the same. He’d been taking jibes at Sandburg ever since Blair had hooked up with Jim. The hulking student had escalated his verbal assaults since the last round of grants had been awarded and his own pitiful research had earned him exactly - nothing. The fact that Blair did twice the work and published three times the papers didn’t figure into Lewin’s accounts of how he was getting screwed over. 

"Well, you know I thought you might be interested in this new move I learned in judo," Lewin said moving closer. He stood almost six feet tall and probably out weighted Jim by twenty pounds and the gleam in his black eyes was anything but friendly. Blair stepped back, Lewin’s offers of help were to be considered armed and dangerous. Before Sandburg knew what was happening, Cory had dropped his backpack and grabbed Blair around the throat. Strong fingers nestled against his windpipe and the back of his neck.

"Even someone as small as you," Lewin sneered, "can toss a bigger opponent." Cory moved his hands, dropping them to Blair’s arm, swinging him around until Sandburg was off balance and falling. He hit the ground hard, wondering how he’d gotten there. When the world stopped rotating counter clockwise, Blair looked up at Lewin’s smug grin. "Sorry, man. Did I hu..,,oooph."

A black shape swooped in, slamming against Lewin with a bone-crunching thump. The instructor crashed to the ground, books and papers flying like confetti. Blair managed to get his feet under him and stand just as the last paper settled to the ground. A crowd had gathered and several voices were calling encouragement to the two figures on the grass but Blair stood silent, stunned by the ferocity of the newcomer’s attack. Lewin struggled but the man had him down, a thick arm across his throat, a knee planted in the middle of Cory’s stomach. Blair shook his head, trying to clear the confusion there. He didn’t understand what was happening at first and when it finally dawned on him a cold knot formed in his stomach.

"Oh, shit. Jim! Jim, come on, man," Blair yelled. He recognised his partner only because of the cloths he wore, the feral look of hatred twisting Jim’s normally placid features was something he’d never seen before. "Jim, I’m okay. He’s an instructor here!" Sandburg reached out, taking Jim by the shoulders as the larger man knelt astride the prone figure. He could feel the coiled muscles, the power which surged through Ellison’s body. "He was showing me a hold and it got a little intense." Jim looked up then, his blue eyes locked on Blair’s. Sandburg could feel the intensity of that gaze, feel his partner’s mind burrowing into his own. Ellison nodded once, his hands losing their grip on Lewin’s throat as he finally realised his partner was in no danger.

"What the hell’s going on here?" A voice yelled. 

Blair flashed an apologetic grin towards the security guard. "Oh, sorry, man. I’m Blair Sandburg, Anthropology department. This is Detective James Ellison," He waved towards Jim who was now climbing off Lewin, "sorry ‘bout all this. Just a misunderstanding."

"What the fuck is your problem?" Lewin yelled at Ellison. "I should have your goddamn badge for that!"

"You’re lucky I didn’t break your stinking neck," Jim growled. He’d relinquished his hold on Lewin but not backed away. Eyes narrowed, mouth a thin line, he held the other man’s eyes until Lewin looked away. "Never, ever touch Sandburg again. Understand?" Lewin didn’t answer, he shot Blair a hostile glare before turning and walking away through a crowd which snickered with barely contained laughter.

"You okay, Chief?" Jim gripped Blair’s elbow, staring hard at his partner. 

"Yeah, Jim, fine. Sheesh, you don’t have try to kill anyone who touches me," Blair tried to lighten up the mood, knowing instinctively that Jim was still on edge.

"Don’t think I won’t," Ellison said so softly it had only been a trick of acoustics that Blair heard it. He reached over, briefly gripping Jim’s elbow before smiling. 

"I’m okay. I thought we were meeting at the station," Blair said with a frown. Some times he forgot what Jim told him the plan for the day was but he’d been almost positive about today’s.

"Took the day off, Chief," Jim murmured, his gaze turned towards the farthest corner of the quad. Blair waited until the distracted look faded from Jim’s face and the older man suddenly grinned at him. "We have the makings for a perfect day," Jim chuckled, "sunshine, time off, and sandwiches from George’s Deli! What more could we ask for?" Blair had to laugh. There were times when Jim shook off his responsibilities and indulged in some quality relaxation. Blair suspected these times had been very rare before he’d arrived in the detective’s life but since they’d been partners Jim would occasionally drop what he was doing and take Blair out for a day of complete idleness. The younger man had come to cherish these hours together. It was something they shared away from the Sentinel aspect, away from the police duties, away from everything but their burgeoning friendship. 

It was almost as if Jim was trying to build a foundation beneath them, something they would always have even if everything else failed them. They never did anything major, a movie, a hike, a picnic in the park, but it was always just the two of them. Neither made any sweeping confessions or earth shattering revelations but somehow they each came away with a greater understanding of the other. One time Jim had sat under a tree and read aloud passages from Leaves of Grass, another Blair had spent an hour describing the carnival he’d travelled with when he was thirteen, and still another they had joined a community group planting trees in forest. Whenever Blair passed by the saplings, or heard calliope music or quoted Whitman his memory played back the joy of those times and he’d feel the peace of their days together.

"Chief?" Jim’s hand closed on Blair’s shoulder, concern evident in the way he bent closer, staring at his partner. "You ready?"

"Oh, sure, man. Just zoning." Blair watched Jim pick up the fallen backpack and sling it over his own shoulder. With a hand on Sandburg’s back, he steered him towards the truck and the day waiting for them. Neither man looked back to see Cory Lewin standing on the sidewalk, icy dark eyes riveted on their every move. They didn’t see the way his fist clenched around the rejected grant request and even Jim didn’t hear the muttered curse he threw after them.

* * *

Today it was an afternoon in the park. Jim found them a secluded spot and grabbed an old blanket he kept behind the seat of the truck. He tossed a sack of sandwiches to Blair and rummaged around in a second. "Water or pop, Blair?" He held up two bottles and let Blair choose.

"Diet? Ah, Jim, I hate diet."

"That’s why I brought the water," Jim patiently explained. He playfully slapped Blair’s cheek before following the younger man to a sunny patch in the middle of a clearing. For half an hour both were able to forget drugs, bombs, tests, deadlines, and the world in general. The only thing which existed had been between them all along, felt by both men from the first moment Blair had barged in on Jim in the hospital. Sandburg found himself drowsing contentedly.

"Happy?" Jim asked suddenly. Blair turned to look at his partner and smiled. He was utterly, blissfully happy. He had a full stomach, sunshine on his face and his best friend beside him. Life could offer nothing more than all he had within his grasp at that exact moment. All his life had been a search, for understanding, for knowledge, for acceptance and somehow everything he’d been looking for had been placed in his hands. Blair would never have suspected that his Holy Grail would appear in the form of a stressed out cop with hyper senses but James Ellison had turned out to be everything Blair had ever sought. The Sentinel had answered his quest for knowledge, the cop his pursuit of adventure, and Jim his search for friendship. 

"Yeah," Blair answered, his buoyant mood making him laugh softly. He lay back on his elbows still staring at his partner. Jim shook his head but his eyes were alive with good humour. Something crackled between them, Blair could feel it deep within his bones, moving through his soul with each beat of his heart. When Jim leaned close, Blair half expected to be teased about his exuberance but instead, the ocean blue of Ellison’s eyes locked with his, looming larger and larger until they filled his vision and blotted out the rest of the world. Jim moved slowly, stretching over Blair until they were nose to nose and his breath feathered across Sandburg’s mouth and Blair’s gaze dropped to the lips so near his own. In that instant, the space between one heartbeat and the next, the world dimmed and the word KISS seemed to glitter in his mind like a neon command. Blair felt his eyes widen as the thought settled into his brain, it was such a new idea. It had never occurred to him to kiss Ellison in more than a brotherly fashion. 

He had never had the urge to kiss Ellison, not when the cop wrapped him in his arms to comfort him after some horrible ordeal, or when they sat side by side in companionable silence, and never when a brush with death had left them staring at each other wondering what they would ever do if they were parted by death. None of these harrowing times had ever provoked the slightest desire to press his lips to Jim’s and share his soul deep feelings of friendship in such an - intimate - way. Any yet, now, sitting in the sunshine, Jim leaning over him, his own happiness palpable in the crisp air, Blair realised kissing his partner was something he wanted to do very much. That one thought opened doors to feelings Sandburg hadn’t even suspected of existing. And then the moment passed and Jim was pulling back with that distracted look of intense listening and Blair felt the loneliness which sometimes touched his soul return tenfold.

"What’s that?" Jim pulled back, the lunch sack clutched in a white knuckled hand, a furrowed line etched between his brows as he scanned the area. Blair sighed, air rushing from his lungs in a mixture of regret and relief. Jim quickly turned to him, one hand already reaching out to capture Sandburg’s shoulder.

"Ah, what’s what, man?" Blair asked.

"Just thought I heard something," Jim said, a huskiness lingered in his tone but he his expression had changed back to the carefree one he’d started their afternoon with. "Oh," gesturing at a group of people entering the other side of the clearing he grinned, "just a camera. Come on, Chief. No more goldbricking."

Neither man commented on the undercurrent of feelings swirling between them but they were there as if someone had spoken aloud. A look which lingered just an instant longer than normal, a smile filled with a gentleness which hadn’t been there before, a touch which felt like a caress, these were the only sign something had touched them, some feeling, nurtured to maturity, had been born between them. Blair found himself wondering just what his life would be like if he hadn’t met Jim. Probably be squatting in some hut in Borneo, watching a ritual which would make him feel like an outsider. Not that he’d ever needed a ritual to feel like an outsider, that came naturally to him. It used to hurt, knowing everything about cultural mores and still not belonging, but he’d convinced himself long ago that the pain wasn’t unbearable.

Even when he’d started working with the Cascade Police and found himself with his nose pressed against the glass for the millionth time in his life, Blair had accepted his role. It had only been when Jim, his living, breathing research project, took him into his home and began treating him more like a brother than a tag-along that Blair found a measure of approval from the other cops. There were still some officers who looked at him with barely disguised annoyance but Jim’s silent presence sent most of them scurrying back into the woodwork. Ellison’s total, unconditional acceptance had sent a message, now the others took the time to see the things Jim seemed to have seen from the beginning. He wasn’t just Ellison’s shadow anymore, he was Detective Ellison’s partner and that meant a lot, to them and to Blair.

"Hey, Jim?" Blair waited until Ellison turned to face him, the words which had been on the tip of his tongue deserted Blair. "This was, like, the best day ever," he blurted, scarcely aware of anything but the smile which blossomed on Jim’s face.

"Yeah?" A mischievous look shone from Jim’s eyes.

"Yeah!" 

"Good, cause you owe me ten bucks for the sandwiches and pop." Ellison laughed aloud before pulling Blair into a warm embrace, whispering, "I’ll give you a discount because I like your face."

* * *

One week later the memory of that peace filled afternoon was the only thing keeping Blair Sandburg going. Seven short days but each and every one of them had been filled with non stop chaos. His own career had spiralled out of control, papers were due he hadn’t even known about, classes had to be taught where he felt he was lecturing to cantaloupes, and every student on campus wanted to come into his office and bitch about their grades. All of this would have been hell on earth in and of itself but the kicker came six days after the picnic in the park. Blair, exhaustion blurring his eyes, had stumbled into the loft wanting only to collapse into his coffin and pray someone drove a stake through his heart before the sun rose and he had to do it all again. And he would have if he hadn’t seen his partner standing alone at the windows, staring out over a darkened city.

"Jim? Hey, man, you would not believe the day...," he let the words trail away to nothing. Jim hadn’t moved, gave no indication he even knew Blair was in the room. Sandburg moved slowly, coming around his friend until he stood where Jim could see him and still Ellison started when he touched his arm. "Jim? What is it?" Blair took an abrupt step backwards, Jim’s eyes were as flat and cold as stone. "Jim?"

Taking a deep, unsteady breath Ellison turned away, moving like an ashen faced corpse. Blair watched his friend, saw him nearly collapse onto the couch when his knees buckled and had to steel his own to be able to move to the sentinel. Sandburg was at his side before Jim had even realised he’d sat down, kneeling on the rug with both hands on Ellison’s shoulders. "What the hell’s going on, Jim? Don’t do this to me, man. Don’t shut me out," he could hardly lift his voice above a whisper for the fear clotting his throat, but the intensity of his rasp must have penetrated to his fiend’s brain, Jim looked up.

Jim rarely showed the effects of his job, it was as if he took in all the pain and horror and locked it away where no one, least of all himself, could ever find it. But staring into the stricken face, Blair suddenly realised the price Ellison paid for his control. "You can tell me," he swore, "whatever it is, you can tell me." And Jim did. In a voice Blair never would have recognised as that of his partner, Ellison told him about the two thirteen year old boys, abducted from their home and missing for several days. He described the sickening stench of clotted blood, smelling it long before two battered bodies were found stuffed in a drain pipe. He made Blair hear the deafening sound of buzzing flies settling on dead, staring eyes, and see the sight of their naked skin discoloured by burns and blows and the ritualistic lacing of their fingers. Blair experienced it all right there in his best friend’s eyes, growing colder and colder with each sentence Jim uttered. 

"I’m so sorry," he rasped but Jim was up, bolting for the bathroom. Retching sounds reached Blair’s ears as he sat hugging his knees to a chest he found curiously empty. He waited an eternity, waited for Jim to call to him, to need him, to want his comfort. And when the call came it wasn’t in words, or even a sound. It was a feeling, the emptiness which seemed to swell inside his chest, consuming everything in its path and he knew he had to stop it. It jerked him to his feet, propelling him with explosive force towards his partner. Jim sat very still, leaning against the wall for support, only his chest belying the impression of death. Blair stretched out a hand, meaning to gather his partner close but an iron grip on his wrist made him hiss with pain.

"Don’t touch me," Ellison ordered. Anger twisted his features into a caricature of the man Sandburg called friend. His hand tightened fractionally, grinding the delicate bones of Blair’s wrist together but that pain was nothing to the anguish spearing through Sandburg’s heart. "You’re so fuckin’ smart. You’ve got the answers to everything, Sandburg," Ellison ground out between clenched teeth, "tell me how to forget this. Tell me how to stop the stink of their blood and the sound of the flies! Tell me, goddamnit!" he roared. Blair shook his head, hair stinging his eyes, letting the tears roll free of the hold he’d kept on them.

"I can’t Jim," Blair cried, his voice breaking over the name. "God, I can’t and I want to. I want to so bad, Jim." He sank to his knees, waiting. The first tremors felt like cracks in plaster as they raced through Ellison’s back. The entire wall of Jim’s defences shuddered, falling piece by piece to the cold, tile floor where they sat. The terrible grip on Sandburg’s wrist eased, disappearing when Jim turned his hand, fingers resting in Blair’s palm. Blair recognised the gesture for what it was - he leaned forward, the crystal clear image of being held in those strong arms springing into his mind’s eye. Jim’s voice, soothing away the fear and driving the golden fire people back into the blackness of his mind, filled his head. He wrapped both arms around Jim, speaking soft, mindless words of comfort as his partner shivered. The fierce need to protect his Sentinel filled Blair, wiping out everything he’d ever learned, everything he’d ever thought. All he could do was feel. 

"Why, Blair?" Jim asked. He looked up at Blair, his hoarse whisper demanding an answer, demanding to know why he had this gift if he couldn’t save lives. Sandburg couldn’t accept the dull ache of foreboding which raced through him as Jim just stared at him, defeated. Blair’s throat was raw with unuttered shouts of protest, he opened his mouth but, overwhelmed by the horror, he remained silent. He had no idea of how long he knelt there, Jim leaning against him, it was only when Ellison’s shivering returned that Blair realised the room had grown cold.

"Come on, big guy," he urged. Jim moved like a robot, allowing himself to be helped to his feet and guided through the loft. Blair paused in the living room to close the balcony doors and pull the shades before leading Ellison up the stairs to his bedroom. The older man undressed slowly, tolerating Sandburg’s help silently, sliding beneath the blankets and closing his eyes with a bone weary sigh. "Jim," Blair kept his voice low, murmuring softly in the darkness, "it doesn’t seem right, but you have to put this behind you. You’re a great cop, man. Being a Sentinel has made you even better. It’s a gift and no matter what has happened you have to believe you’ve saved lives which would have been lost." There was no response from the figure on the bed so Blair said the thing which had been on his mind for a year, "I wouldn’t be here now if your Sentinel abilities hadn’t developed. This," he reached out, finding Jim’s hand more by instinct than sight, "this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t a Sentinel." Little by little the icy flesh beneath Blair’s hand warmed and Jim’s fingers curled around his, locking them together in his grief. He knew Jim wasn’t sleeping but a sense of peace finally settled between them and Blair knew everything would be okay. Not relinquishing the grip he had on Jim’s hand, Sandburg sat down on the edge of the bed. Night greyed into morning and when the sun found them, Sentinel and Guide linked by their commitment to each other, they were forced to face an even greater threat.

* * *

"Ellison!" Simon Banks’ shout drown out the normal day to day buzz in Major Crimes. Blair jerked in surprise, coffee sloshing over the rim of his cup and felt Jim’s hand clamp on his shoulder. That simple touch did a lot to quell the feeling of impending doom which had run riot in his gut like a butterfly convention gone wild. He’d woken, cold, stiff, arm completely numb from being stretched out across Jim’s bed all night, and wondered if they could make it through the day without the world crashing around them. He’d gotten his answer a short while later while Jim was taking a shower. Banks’ call, ordering them back to the station had been tempered with the Captain’s rough concern for his detective. Jim, of course, hadn’t mentioned he’d zoned out after discovering the bodies and Banks’ chilling description of his partner, standing like cold marble, staring at the sickening sight, sent a jolt of panic through Sandburg. 

"Ellison, Sandburg, now!" Blair handed his coffee to Jim who took a long sip before pushing Sandburg ahead of him. They wandered into Banks’ office and the hand on Blair’s shoulder suddenly clenched, biting into his flesh like a claw.

"Pop? What the hell....?" Jim stared at the man seated in Banks’ office, a muscle flicked angrily at his jaw and his eyes had filled with an unspoken pain. Blair stepped closer, edging slightly between his partner and this man.

"Jimmy," William Ellison greeted coldly, his mouth took on an unpleasant twist as he uttered the name. He wasn’t a large man, his hair greying at the temples. Though he wore an expensive suit, Blair could tell this Jim’s father was a powerful man use to taking care of things on his own. "I would ask what you’ve been up to in the past fifteen years," Ellison growled, "but I know the answer." His large hand closed on a stack of photos which he tossed across the table. They spilled out before the partners like a deck of Tarot cards telling their past, present and future. 

"That’s....that’s us!" Blair gasped and heard Jim’s sharp intake of breath. He shuffled through the photos, casting a sidelong glance of disbelief at his partner as the images registered. Each photograph had been snapped at an instant where the two men were engaged in some casual exchange but though each knew these were innocent moments in their friendship the photographs presented them in a different light. There were photos of them leaving the station, Jim’s arm wound tightly around Blair’s shoulders, Sandburg’s arm around his waist, heads close together. A couple of grainy photos showed them in the loft; Blair kneeling at Jim’s feet. Others had been taken during their afternoon in the park, one when Jim had teased him about repaying the cost of their lunch; they stood face to face, Jim’s hands clutching Blair’s ribs, a secretive smile passing between them, but the most damning evidence knocked the breath from Blair’s lungs in a strangled gulp.

The unseen photographer had caught them just at the instant Blair realised he cared much more deeply for Jim than he had for anyone else in his life. Jim’s body covered his, their faces only inches apart. But it was the expressions which caught the viewer’s eyes; the smouldering desire which could be felt just by looking at their faces. Blair’s lips were parted, his gaze riveted on Ellison’s own mouth. Sandburg felt a jolt in the pit of his stomach as he searched the image of his best friend and saw passion burning in Jim’s eyes, hunger in the set of his mouth and tenderness etched in his bearing. His eyes darted to Jim’s seeking confirmation of what he had seen. The very air around them seemed electrified and Blair found himself wanting the protectiveness of his friend’s arms. Jim’s blue eyes were full of life, pain and unquenchable warmth. His hand settled possessively on Blair’s. 

"What’s this about?" Jim demanded, ripping his gaze from Blair’s face, leaving the younger man bereft. 

"What the hell does it look like, Jim?" William demanded. "I got these fuckin’ pictures in the mail this morning," he ground out between clenched teeth. "You and your little fag boyfriend there," he shot a disgusted glance at Blair, "are going to cost me twenty million dollars."

"Just hold on, Mr. Ellison," Banks interrupted. He stopped William’s angry retort with a look and turned his attention to his detective. "Jim, your father was explaining to me that his company was in the middle of negotiations with Yamahita Enterprises."

"The Japanese aren’t going to do business with a company who’s CEO is embroiled in scandal," Ellison, Sr. barked. "Why the hell’d you have to get caught now?"

"Look," Jim growled, "we haven’t been caught doing anything. These," he tossed the photos back, "these pictures of Sandburg and me aren’t anything."

"But what about the rumours, Jimmy?" William asked, dripping sarcasm with each syllable. "I’ve asked around, I talked to people here in the station. I don’t give a damn whether it’s true or not, I want to know what the hell you’re going to do about these."

Ellison leaned forward, eyes cold, "blackmail is a police matter. We’ll do whatever we have to to catch the bastard." He turned on his heel, faltering when his eyes came to rest on Sandburg, but shepherded his partner from the room with a curt nod.

The rest of the morning was an exercise in tension. They avoided touching each other and rarely caught each other’s glance. Blair stayed a few more hours at the station, careful to keep out of Jim’s way, not to lean over him to work the computer, not to slip his arm around Jim’s waist as they walked, not to drink from his cup, not to do the million little things he did each and every day without even thinking of how it would look. But it was hard and when he found himself leaning over Jim’s shoulder, hair brushing Ellison’s cheek and turned to see the agonised light smouldering in his gold flecked eyes, he stammered an excuse and fled to the safety of the university and his own office. Blair took refuge among his books and artefacts, he held onto the things he knew and shied away from the rampant emotions he didn’t understand.

Darkness fell, hiding all the unpleasantness from Sandburg’s sight. For the time it took him to get to the loft, Blair struggled to convince himself nothing had changed; he and Jim were friends, close friends, they cared about each other and the thing between them, the thing which had been captured in those pictures was a lie. He did not want to crush his partner to his chest and smother him with kisses, Jim did not want to do the same to him. It was a misunderstanding, trick photography like having your picture taken with the President and it being a cardboard cut-out all along. All he had to do was talk to Jim and it would work itself out. Blair parked his car, Jim’s voice in his head making him lock it and pocket the keys. He hurried across the street and up to the apartment he shared with his best friend. He found Ellison sitting on the floor in the dark, back against the couch and staring at the blank wall.

"Hey, buddy," Sandburg called, hearing his own voice sound stiff and unnatural. Jim didn’t respond, didn’t give any indication he’d heard at all. A surge of panic sent Blair flying to Jim’s side, he squatted there peering into the immobile face. "Jim? Jim, listen to me." 

Jim stopped him with a raised hand, but his eyes stayed staring straight ahead. "Do we really look like that?" There was a cold edge of irony in his quiet voice. Blair blinked, brows slanted in a frown, uncertain as to what Jim was getting at. "The photographs, Chief," Jim explained, finally turning to meet his eyes. "Do we really look at each other like that? Does everyone see it?"

Blair shrugged, shifting until he sat cross-legged facing Jim, one knee resting casually on his partner’s thigh. He plucked absently at a loose thread on the rug, trying to unravel the complicated pattern until Jim captured his hand in gentle fingers. "How come we never saw it?" Ellison asked in bewildered tones. 

"I guess...I guess to us it just was," Blair hedged, he shrugged again to hide his confusion. "What’s between us Jim, just feels right. I can’t explain it, man. I just know I feel it and I like it." He smiled, brushing his hair back and struggled to find the words which would make it as clear to Jim as it had suddenly become clear to him. "I’ve never in my life, in my whole life, Jim, had a real friend. Pretty pathetic, huh?" Mercifully the dim light hid the extent of his embarrassment, but not from Ellison. The fingers curled over his tightened and Sandburg felt the warmth of that touch in his heart. "You protect me, you want me to be happy, you put me ahead of your own needs." He stopped, blowing out a noisy breath, "God, Jim, before I met you I didn’t know it was possible to care about someone as much as I care about you." He didn’t realise tears had formed in his eyes, trembling with each word he spoke until Ellison raised a hand to brush at his face and the large fingers came away wet. Blair found himself being pulled forward, head pressed against Jim’s chest, strong arms holding him secure.

"Chief." It was more a sigh than a word, a prayer there in the darkness and Blair felt it in his bones more than he heard it. "You know why I protect you? Why I care about you so much?" His hand made small circles on Sandburg’s back in time to the words spilling from his lips. "You gave me back my life, Blair. All the time I was growing up I never knew why I was different. I just knew I wasn’t like other people and it kept me alone. When I came back from Peru," he laughed, a sharp dreadful sound which made Sandburg shiver, "I stuffed everything away, didn’t want to remember what had happened. I clutched at any straw I could find to keep from going insane. I married Carolyn just to keep from being alone with my memories. It wasn’t fair to her, but I was so frightened." Blair felt his partner’s warm, moist breath in his hair and sorrow washed over his for Jim’s grief and pain, a pain he hadn’t been there to prevent. "It didn’t work," Jim confessed. "I needed you, Blair. All my life I’ve needed you. I was only half alive because you weren’t with me." The arms around Blair pulled him roughly, almost violently tighter, "now that I have you I have a life. I can hear and see, and touch and taste and smell the entire world because I’ve got you. I love you, Blair," he whispered. "I love you more than life."

"We’re a pair, aren’t we?" Sandburg whispered in amazement. Slowly, gently, working only on instinct and not letting thought enter his head, Blair rose and offered Ellison his hand. He waited, saw fear overwhelmed by desire and tenderness, and then Jim was stretching out his hand to meet him. Strong fingers brushed his palm, sending jolts of excitement racing along Blair’s nerves. Jim clutched at his hand, moulding them together with just this one simple touch and for the first time in his life, Sandburg felt complete. Like one soul they turned to the stairs and mounted the steps, their footsteps echoing in time to their hearts. It should have been romantic, Blair found himself wishing for candles and music but the stress and fear of the day was beginning to take its toll. He eyed the wide mattress with a bone weary desire to just fall forward onto it and not move until morning. "Jim..."

"Sssh," Ellison quieted. He pushed Blair down then knelt to pull off the younger man’s boots. "Go to sleep, Chief. I don’t think what we feel will change over night." His hands made short work of the shirts Sandburg had thrown on that morning, then eased him down across the bed. Blair sighed, watching his partner through half open eyes as Jim removed his own shirt and shoes then slid in beside him. They fit together like two halves of one heart. He rested, head pillowed on Jim’s chest, Ellison’s hand on his side, fingers curled in the belt loops of his jeans and wondered why he had ever been afraid. Here, together, nothing mattered but the two of them and the love between them. Despite his exhaustion, Blair found sleep elusive, he lay there long after his Sentinel had surrounded to Morpheus, jumbled thoughts of how they’d moved so far down the path they were now on swirling in his brain. Jim stirred in his sleep, shifting just a bit closer, his hands reaching out for Blair without conscious thought and a smile spread itself across Sandburg’s face. How they’d gotten there didn’t really matter. The fact that they were there now, standing at a crossroads which would either send them off in different directions or move them along together for the rest of their lives, was all that really mattered. Turning in what he hoped was the right direction, he tucked his head against Jim’s shoulder and let sleep come to him.

* * *

"Are you sure you want this case?" Simon Banks asked of his best detective. Ellison, standing at the window staring out at a new day, turned to look over his shoulder. His expression changed, lips quirking up into a slight smile as he regarded his captain.

"Why wouldn’t I?"

"Well.....," Banks sat down, shuffling a stack of papers for something to do, "uh, people will have to see the photos." He kept his eyes fixed on the desk, not daring to raise them. 

"Simon?" Jim stared at him, baffled by the statement. "Do you.....do you think Blair and I...." he let the words die unuttered. Banks had finally looked up, dark eyes shining behind his glasses.

"Jim, look I don’t have any right to tell you how to live your life," Simon began. Jim stared hard at his friend, trying to understand the words being said. "I mean, I discouraged the talk as much as I could. You didn’t make it easy for me, you know?" He shook his head and blew out a sigh, sometimes he’d caught Sandburg looking at the detective and been amazed at what he’d seen. The wide eyed expression of adulation fit so naturally, settled so perfectly, on his features that only recently had he recognised it for what it was. Ellison was no better, his shattered face after Galileo detonated the elevator bomb had said just how much he cared for Sandburg. 

Banks and his fellow officers had watched in horror as Jim passed them, pale, bloodless features, huge lifeless eyes, he’d pushed through the crowd blindly. Simon had taken a step forward, meaning to tell Ellison that Blair had escaped and ease the ravaged look of grief, but Blair’s voice had echoed through the hall. The change had been instantaneously, hope flared visibly in his dead eyes, Jim’s steps quickened until Simon had to run to keep up with him. They found Blair surrounded by people but as Jim approached everyone melted away, leaving the anthropologist free to meet his partner. When Simon caught up to them, they were standing before the open elevator doors, arms around each other, Jim’s face buried in Sandburg’s hair. Simon remembered thinking at the time it was pure Ellison to comfort his partner like that, and then it dawned on him. Blair was the one offering comfort, his arms locked the larger man to him, his hands circled gently on Jim’s back, and his words of comfort were easing Ellison’s pain. From that moment on, Simon had understood that these two were linked much deeper than cop and observer, they were linked heart to heart. He sighed and told Jim, "Moving Sandburg in to your place within a few weeks of meeting him and then letting him stay set tongues wagging from Burglary to Vice. You two haven’t been apart, except for hospital stays, since you met."

"Simon, we......Blair and I......" Ellison stuttered to a halt, not sure what he wanted to say. Those photos weren’t the truth and yet - they weren’t a lie at all. "Simon, I want this case. I can do the job and I will. My old man is an asshole but he’s still my old man and he’s being blackmailed. Blair and I are checking out a lead on the photos. We’re heading down to forensics. I’ll let you know how it goes." He tossed a grim smile towards the other man and went in search of his partner. Sandburg wasn’t at his desk so Ellison focused on his hearing, scanning the 7th floor for his Guide. 

".....those pictures were hot," came the voice of an officer striding down the hallway outside the bullpen.

"I know! I thought he was bad here at the station but get them alone they must just go insane," replied the man’s partner. Jim frowned, unsure whether to be annoyed by his co-workers comments or not. He continued scanning the area and heard several others commenting on the photographs which had somehow made their way through the office grapevine. 

"It’s not like it’s a surprise," a secretary from Vice was whispering to another woman, "Ellison has mooned over that kid since day one."

"Tell me about it," the second woman said, "I thought he was going to fall apart when Blair collapsed during that drug ordeal. He’s so sweet with that guy."

"..... told you last year they were more than just friends."

"Ellison a fag? You’d never think it to look......"

Jim tuned in to other conversations, listening as his fellow officers discussed his personal life with callus abandon. Everyone who remarked on them, good and bad, didn’t seem in the least surprised that Ellison and his partner were closer than they claimed to be. Jim sighed, steeling himself for the fact his love for Blair was now something others felt compelled to talk about. Part of him was glad it was out in the open, uncovered from the layer of speculation everyone seemed to have put across it. He was glad it had been revealed to him as well, excavated from the rubble of his life by a few photographs. He’d known he loved Blair for some time now. He loved his courage and strength, his intelligence and humour, his absolute determination to be with Jim and keep him safe, but it had taken these few simple images caught on film to make him realise he was in love with his partner as well. Jim smiled and sighed, life was one crazy adventure after another. He cast the net of his hearing wider and reeled in the sound he’d been searching for; the comforting thump of his partner’s heart. His hearing picked up his Guide’s voice and those of some of the other officers down the hall near the vending machines.

"Look, Sandburg," one voice was saying, "I don’t understand any of this, but we’re behind you."

"Yeah," chimed in a second, "Ellison is a damn fine officer and we don’t care whether you guys are a couple or not."

"Uh, thanks," came Blair’s hesitant reply. Jim rounded the corner, passing Jackson and Billings on his way to meet his partner. The two officers nodded, Jackson thumping Ellison’s shoulder as he passed. Jim returned the nod and hurried to Sandburg. "Hey, Jim." 

"Well, I guess everyone knew," Jim whispered.

"Yeah, too bad they didn’t tell us, huh?" Sandburg watched a smile blossom on Jim’s face and felt as if his chest would burst from the love and affection being pumped through his bloodstream. 

"Would have saved us time and effort, Chief. Come on," Jim headed for the elevator. The forensic lab was in the basement of the central precinct. Carl Barker had taken over after Carolyn’s departure and though he was a quiet, serious scientist, most people liked his easy going manner. Jim and Blair shared a look as the doors swung open to reveal Barker hard at work.

"Hey, Carl," Jim greeted. Barker’s bald head snapped up, face tingeing pink as he caught sight of his guests. The fact that others would automatically think of their personal life first, suddenly cut through both men like a knife. Jim recovered first, his voice gruff as he fought for control. "Got anything on the photos?"

"Detective Ellison, Blair," Barker greeted hurriedly. "Uh, no, not really. It’s common paper, you can buy it at any photography store." He shrugged, stooped shoulders shuddering. "I wish I could tell you more but...."

"Thanks, Carl," Blair said. "That’s a help, too." He and Ellison turned to go but were stopped by Barker’s hesitant voice.

"I just wanted to say, you know, I’m one hundred percent with you," his round cheeks flushed but a smiled filled his eyes.

Jim found Blair’s eyes, his gaze seeming to flash resignation. "Thanks, Carl. We need friends right now." He offered a slight smile and, with a hand on Blair’s back, steered his partner from the room.

"We’re back to square one," Sandburg muttered, running one hand through his dark hair. "This sucks, man! Why can’t we get a break? Some scumbag comes along and messes up our lives and we have no way of tracing him."

"Did he mess up our lives," Ellison asked gently. Standing in the dank hallway tucked away in the basement of the precinct they stared at each other. Blair drew in a shuddering breath, shaking his head, refusing to acknowledge the doubt reflected in Jim’s face.

"Jim, ah, man," he reached out, one hand clutching Ellison’s sleeve, "no, no. I didn’t mean it like that." For once words seemed to desert him, he focused all his affection and devotion into one look and levelled it at Jim. Ellison blinked, his jaw sagging just a bit until he could capture his runaway emotions. Blair watched it all with a smile. 

"Good," Jim whispered. "Inconvenient, but it didn’t do anything but speed up where we were heading." Blair’s nod seemed to release them and with bemused expressions they went back to the elevator. "You know, Chief," Jim murmured once the car had started to ascend, "there’s something about that day in the park that bothers me." He frowned, lips pulled into a grim line as he thought about it.

"What is it?" Blair stepped closer, carefully lowering his voice, dropping into the smooth tone he used to Guide. Jim closed his eyes, focusing but the elevator stopped on the fifth floor and several traffic cops got on. Amid some nervous chuckling, Ellison lost the controlled look he got when using his senses. The ride to the seventh floor was continued in silence and not until they reached Major Crimes did Blair try again. He snagged Jim’s arm and pulled him to the small break room he sometimes used for studying when waiting for Jim. The big detective offered no resistance, just followed in his partner’s wake. Once assured they had the place to themselves, Blair pushed Jim down into a chair and squatted before him. 

"Okay, Jim," he said, "just close your eyes and picture us back in the park. Everything you saw is still up there in your mind. Everything you saw, heard, felt is still locked in your memory." He kept his voice quiet, his tone gentle and soothing and was soon rewarded by Ellison’s slowed breathing. 

"It’s a sound," Jim mumbled. "A whirring click, I hear it just as I reach....," his hand snaked out, finding Blair’s arm. "There are... three people."

"Look at them, Jim," Blair coaxed, "what draws your attention to them? What’s the sound?"

Ellison didn’t answer, his head tilted as if listening to something and then bright blue eyes popped open. "It wasn’t them! I mean," Jim smiled down at his partner, "they had a camera but there was a car across the street."

"A car? Come on, Jim," Blair growled, "I’m dyin’ here! What?"

"I saw a telephoto lens sticking out of the window! Come on, Chief. I’ve got a description and a particle plate to run through the computer." Gripping Blair’s elbow he pulled the younger man to his feet and headed for the door. Blair almost ran into Jim’s broad back when the detective suddenly stopped and turned to face him. "I felt something, too, Blair." A gentle smile, filled with every bit as much passion and longing as had been caught on film, crept over Jim’s features, "Something I want to feel for the rest of my life." Sandburg felt his throat close, he couldn’t have said anything if Jim had suddenly pulled out his gun and demanded a sentence. Nodding wordlessly, he ducked under Ellison’s arm and headed towards Jim’s desk.

Accessing the DMV, Ellison tracked a black Chevy Cavalier with the plate 743-JXA to Cordell I. Lewin. "Cory!" Blair stared at the screen, watching the name scroll across it. "No, this is too freaky, Jim. He’s the one," turning to Ellison he prodded, "you flattened on campus that day, remember?"

"How could I forget? I thought he was hurting you, Chief," Jim chuckled ruefully, "next time I find you rolling around in the grass with some guy I’ll ask first before I flatten them."

"Thanks, Jim, that makes me feel much better." Ellison grinned and lead the way to the truck with Blair on his heels. The DMV had provide Lewin’s last known address and Sandburg directed him to an address half way across town but only a few blocks from Maple Park where their beautiful afternoon in the sun had taken place. Lewin’s apartment had an abandoned feel when the landlord let them in. Scattered advertisements, bills and letters lay on the floor, a sludge filled cup sat beside the bed, clothes hung over chair backs, and in the tiny closet Lewin had used for a darkroom, pans of developer stood waiting. "Wow. Cory definitely had a photo obsession."

"Yeah," Jim agreed, "now all we have to do if find him and ask him why he’s blackmailing my father with pictures of us doing nothing."

"Nothing?" Blair asked, one dark brow arched over a quizzical look. Ellison turned from his inspection of Lewin’s equipment to smile at him.

"Not yet, anyway." 

Sandburg smiled back then wandered off to his own investigating. He approached any crime scene the way he’d approach an archaeological site; slowly and carefully. Hanging with Jim he’d learned procedure, the proper way to preserve evidence and things to look for, coupling that with his training in human behaviour he made a fine detective in his own right. He carefully studied the bedroom, easing open the bureau drawers with covered fingers and using his laser pointer to lift clothing and papers. Blair spent several minutes sifting the drawer’s contents in this way before he noticed something. "Jim! Hey, man, lookit this."

"What’cha got, Chief?" Jim came over to stand beside him, eyes flicking over the open drawer. "Not freaked because he’s a briefs kinda guy and not boxers, are you?" 

"It is scary," Sandburg joked, "but I meant this." The rounded point of his laser pointer scooped aside the patterned underwear to reveal a stack of shiny magazines. Big Boys, Wet & Wild, Bound In Leather, each photo uncovered showed a well endowed male exhibiting his endowment with gleeful exuberance and physical agility. Blair watched his partner’s face and saw shock and revulsion race across it before a kind of embarrassed interest settled into place. Jim looked up, his blue eyes sought Blair’s and a wash of embarrassment made Sandburg lower his eyes. He could feel the thunder of his heart shaking his frame and knew Jim could hear it easily. He took a deep breath and met his partner’s eyes. His partner. He’d said the phrase a thousand times in the last few years but only now did it sound like the truth. The pictures and their own reactions to them had been understandable but Blair didn’t want Jim to think he regretted what they felt for each other.

"Are you okay with this, Blair?" Jim asked gently. His hand came down on the younger man’s shoulder, a fleeting touch, but one which connected them. Blair grinned and caught the hand now curled into a fist at Jim’s side. 

"More than just okay," Blair told him. Jim’s smile was warm and encompassing and Sandburg could feel the power of his affection through their joined hands. He cleared his throat and nodded towards the magazines, "Cory never struck me as being gay." He shrugged and shook his head nervously, "stereotypes, huh?" 

Ellison released his hand with a sigh but before Blair could say anything else the detective’s features took on a focused expression. Something on top of the bureau had snagged Jim’s attention; he bent closer to the wood, eyes scanning the dust intently. "Lookit this," he instructed and pulled on Sandburg’s collar until Blair was hunched over beside him. "Something’s been laying here. I can see the impression of a key here in the dust."

"Can you see a number, or code or anything?" Blair asked. 

"Yeah, there’s.....there’s a number. Write this down, Chief," Jim commanded. "FC921-3." 

"Got it," Blair said. "Maybe it’s a safety deposit key, maybe he’s got $25,000 in the First Bank of Cascade."

"You said he applied for grants just like you do? You been holding out on me, Chief?" Jim asked.

"He applied just never got them. And, Jim," Sandburg’s wicked grin flared to life, "if I had $25,000 I’d keep you in leather." His laugh filled the air as Ellison turned red and walked away. A further search turned up nothing. All they had to go on was the key print, which they turned over to Financial Crimes on returning to the station. Lewin’s car and cameras were the only things missing from the apartment and an APB was issued with a description of the man and the black Cavalier he drove. "Wanna grab some Mexican on the way home?" Blair suggested. A crazy mixture of fear and hope had been building in his gut as the day wore on. Each time he locked eyes with Ellison it was like a dizzying ride on a carousel. He could feel his own thoughts circling wildly; he wanted Jim, wanted to hold him close and feel his lips burning a brand across his skin, but another part of him didn’t want their friendship to change. He loved Jim. He loved the easy feel between them, the way they knew instinctively what the other needed, the unwavering loyalty they had for each other. Would this change them? Would this sweep them out to sea like a storm with nothing to anchor them and once it passed leave them adrift?

Jim seemed to know what he was thinking. The deep blue of his eyes looked sad and hopeful all at once. Sandburg sighed, a slow smile growing as Ellison reached over and placed his hand on Blair’s knee. Pleasure radiated outwards from this one touch, climbing Sandburg like a flame devouring kindling. He took a deep breath and placed his hand over Jim’s. Something inside him, maybe something which had been there since birth, told him everything would be okay. 

"Sounds good, Chief," Ellison murmured and Blair wondered if he meant the food.

* * *

He found seventeen white candles. The sheer number of emergency candles made Blair laugh. Jim must have been a Boy Scout; always be prepared. He found a collection of soft Celtic harps deep within the CD cabinet and put it on as he lit the candles, placing a few around the living room and others leading up the stairs. The loft glowed like heaven at sunset and Sandburg felt the throb of desire flare within groin. Ellison emerged from the bathroom wrapped only in a towel, trailing steam and the scent of soap. The candles made his smooth skin blaze gold and bronze and his eyes dance as they sought and found Blair standing near the window.

"You look.......," Blair didn’t finish. Beautiful, flared to life on his tongue, poised to fly the distance between them and stopped only by his reluctance to embarrass himself if Jim looked away. "Great," he whispered. 

"Uh, thanks," Jim moved closer, the scent of his clean skin overpowering Sandburg’s resistance. Blair found the courage to do something he suddenly realised he’d wanted to do for ages. He gathered Jim close, burying his face against the corded muscles of that powerful chest. He felt Jim’s hands come up, tangling into his thick hair and pressing him just a bit closer. "I love you," Jim whispered into his hair and Blair felt it all the way through to his heart. "But," Ellison continued, "could you take a shower. You smell like the tuna sandwich you had for lunch."

"Romantic, aren’t you?" Kissing the smooth expanse of skin beneath his mouth, Blair released his hold on the larger man and, snagging Jim’s towel, headed for the bathroom. "You shouldn’t stand around like that, big guy," he called over his shoulder, "could catch cold." The sound of Ellison’s bare feet on the stairs told him the detective would be waiting in his bedroom. He took his time in the shower, even used the blow dryer on his hair.

The bedroom blazed with candles Jim had carefully placed around the bed. The wide mattress looked as if it were floating on an burning ocean. Ellison had thrown off the blankets leaving only a sheet draped over his body and Blair stood at the top of the stairs staring at his partner. Jim was a Greek god come to life, flames highlighting his rippled chest, casting shadows beneath his cheekbones, glittering in his eyes. The sight stole Blair’s breath leaving him gulping painfully short gasps. Jim raised a hand, silent command, wordless supplication.

As soon as his own cold fingers touched the warmth of Jim’s, Blair felt safe. This man was his Blessed Protector, no harm would ever come to him as long as Jim was near. He let his hand slid up Ellison’s arm, caressing the length of his reach until his hand rested upon Jim’s shoulder. He kissed the beloved face with his eyes, tracing the strong jaw, shadowed cheeks, dark brows with his gaze. Jim shivered beneath his scrutiny, a faint smile chasing away the anxious set to his lips. Sandburg allowed himself an answering smile, quickly sobering. This was too important to be distracted by Jim’s good looks, he closed his eyes and prayed for the courage to say what he needed to say. "I love you, Jim," he whispered. "With all my heart and soul. I love you." When he opened his eyes Jim no longer stared at him, the big detective’s head was bent, a tremor running through the bowed shoulders. "Jim? Are you okay?"

When Ellison looked up, Blair had to catch his breath. Candlelight captured the shimmer of love in Jim’s eyes so that it appeared he was lit from inside by a fire all his own. Blair eased onto the mattress, leaning forward to taste the smooth skin of Ellison’s forehead. His lips tingled as the sensations washed over him, and the anthropologist part of his mind was half tempted to ask Jim what he was feeling. "Jim?" He let his lips touch Jim’s as he spoke, "Let me make love to you?" Some other part of his nature had overridden the academic and taken control of his tongue.

Blair pressed himself to his partner, taking them both to the mattress with a gentle moan. His hands searched for pleasure points as his mouth ravished the one pressed firmly to his own. Blair found he didn’t need Jim’s heightened senses to hear the pounding heart or feel the surging blood in the body writhing under him. He let one hand slid down the washboard stomach to Ellison’s flank, fingers tracing the swell of muscle. It was like making love to himself, a narcissus act which brought instant arousal. He knew what would please Jim, what would make him moan and pant and call his name out loud. He searched out those secret places, places where women only rarely ventured and he claimed them for his own.

Blair kissed a fiery trail down Ellison’s throat, pausing to suckle and lick the ripe fruit of his Adam’s Apple before latching onto one marble like nipple. Strong hands caught his shoulders, fingers biting his flesh painfully as he was pressed harder into the detective’s flesh. Sandburg reached up, slipping one finger into Jim’s mouth, before trailing it wetly down his ribs, side and flank. Ellison’s ragged breath and harsh moans filled the air, he called Blair’s name again and again as his swollen nipples were gently bitten. Sandburg abandoned his prey with one last kiss and arrowed lower, mouth burrowing through the thick hair at Ellison’s groin. He found the hardened shaft and took it into his mouth, his damp fingers searching lower, nudging at the tight channel he planned to plunder. Jim bucked beneath him, pressing himself further into that moist haven engulfing him, and then back onto the probing fingers. Blair took it all, sucking hard then releasing him, teasing Jim with his mouth until the big man was clutching the sheet in tight fists and crying his name in a gasping voice. Blair soothed the hot flesh of Jim’s thighs, hands slipping beneath to grip his buttocks as he once again took Ellison into his mouth. It felt as if an electric shock surged through them, Jim arched wildly, driving himself deeper and Blair swallowed the milky fluid being pumped into his mouth until his lover sagged weakly back onto the bed.

He could feel the shuddering pulse as Jim’s cock slipped from his mouth. With one last kiss he raised his head to judge his success. Jim lay unmoving, sweat pooling and glistening on his rapidly cooling body. A shiver raced across him as Blair watched and then the blue eyes were searching for him. "Oh, god, Blair," Jim whispered. "That....that was so fantastic."

"Like that?" Blair inquired, "then you’re gonna love this." He swooped in for another kiss, loving the soft silk of Ellison’s lips. Hands raked his back, pulling his erection hard against Jim’s stomach, his body craved his lover’s but he wanted it all. "Ah ah ah," he warned, "let’s not waste it." A bright flare of desire shown in Ellison’s eye and the lax penis jerked. Blair grinned and nudged Ellison’s legs wider, manoeuvring between them. The slid of his thighs under Jim’s, taking the larger man’s weight, unleashed the searing hunger he’d harboured for months. Images of his partner filled Sandburg’s mind; Jim laughing, crying, scolding him, hurting for him, protecting him, images of his friend’s pride in him, all the things they had shared in the past three years filled Blair with fervent love. He plunged into the hot opening Jim trusted to him and echoing cries of passion bounced around the room.

It was a consuming fire, one which had been kindled by friendship and fed a steady stream of loyalty and love until a raging fire of desire swept them into embers. Like flying too close to the sun, Blair bathed in the golden light for what seem an eternity and an instant and then he dropped from his great height to land, sprawled across Ellison’s heaving chest. He let himself be pulled from where he lay, tucked into the curve of Jim’s side, protective hands locked in the small of his back and Jim’s lips soft against his temple. Bodies naked and moist from their lovemaking, skin to skin they slept. 

* * *

"What the hell......," Blair raised his head, cold air washed across his body then the blankets were tucked around him and a gentle hand soothed his cheek and caressed the back of his head. He could hear Jim’s voice, low and urgent, it roused his fatigued brain to some higher level of activity.

"It is? Never heard of it. Yeah, okay. Yeah, in an hour." The hand on Blair’s head stilled, fingers tangled in his hair, then began idly massaging again. "Simon, I’m okay with this. So is Sandburg. No, we don’t care who sees the photos." Blair reached out and captured the hand teasing his scalp, bringing the fingers to his lips. His kiss was soft and gentle, a tiny reaffirming of what had passed between them the night before. He smiled when Ellison’s breath caught and his words to Simon faltered, "It’s...it’s okay, Simon, really. I’ve got to get Blair up. Bye."

"Too late," Blair mumbled. "I’m already up." He proved his point by sitting up and looking at his partner. Jim reached out, the sudden touch of his hand almost unbearable in its tenderness and Sandburg stifled his moan of pleasure with ruthless determination. "What did Simon say?" He asked.

"Financial tracked the key to the Industrial Bank of Cascade," Jim told him. The detective leaned close, peering into his partner’s face with an intensity Blair found frightening. "Last night....," Ellison began and Sandburg closed his eyes, shutting out the face before him. He knew what was coming, what always came to him and did not want to watch that beloved mouth speak the words of rejection and humiliation he knew would be forthcoming. "Last night was the beginning of my life, Blair," Jim’s voice whispered. Softly his breath fanned across Sandburg’s cheeks, cooling the hot flush there. "I thought when my senses kicked in that I was finally alive for the first time in my life but I was wrong." His lips brushed Blair’s skin, leaving behind sweet patches of moisture, "I only came to life last night with you." The words meant nothing at first, merely sounds strung together in some pattern but as they were repeated over and over, it began to dawn on Sandburg that Ellison wasn’t dismissing him out of hand. The older man kept repeating the same phrase again and again; ‘I love you, I love you’ and suddenly Blair knew and understood the words. He offered a small, bewildered smile and was rewarded with an answering grin on Ellison’s face.

"Chief? Ellison to Sandburg," Jim smacked Blair’s forehead with a playful swat. "Come on, get a move on or we’ll be late." He leaned down, lips capturing the younger man’s in a gently possessive embrace. Blair held his breath, willing this moment to last for the rest of his life, but too soon the contact was broken and he was left gasping. In awed silence he watched his partner descend the steps, heading towards the bathroom. He waited until the shower started to collapse back onto the mattress, a long sigh of contentment bursting from somewhere deep within his soul.

The morning routine intruded, the simple everyday acts of getting dressed for work, fixing breakfast and gathering the things each needed happened just as they had every morning for the past two years. But this morning the sun seemed brighter through the balcony windows, the food more delicious, the cheerful sound of the other’s voice just so much more enjoyable. Blair felt as if the world had finally shed some last veil of woe and he was on hand to witness its rebirth. It wasn’t until he found himself at the door, staring at his partner’s broad back that uncertainty set in. He wanted......he needed to confirm this, to convince himself it hadn’t been a dream and Jim really did love him. 

Blair reached out, fingers hovering just above his partner’s shoulder but not touching his lover. It must have been his Sentinel abilities, a stray air current, the heat of Sandburg’s fingers, the sound of his jacket rustling, but Jim turned to face him. Coat unzipped, keys dangling from his hand and lips parted as if to encourage his haste, the detective stopped and stared at him. Blair knew his Sentinel could see the longing in his eyes because he saw it reflected in Jim’s. He longed to say the words which would convince Jim of his love and respect but they had lodged somewhere in his throat. All he could do was stare at Ellison and it was like staring into a mirror. Every hurt, every night of aching loneliness, surfaced in the Sentinel’s gaze. 

Blair stepped into the arms which opened to him, pressing himself to Jim. "Promise we’ll stay together," he begged. Suddenly, with the world waiting on the other side of the door, Blair was afraid. He didn’t want the world to take this away from them. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He didn’t want Jim to be alone anymore. Sandburg pulled back just enough to meet Jim’s gaze. Desperation swam in the light blue pools just beneath shimmering affection and raging devotion. His Blessed Protector, but Jim was more than that, he was his partner, best friend and now his lover. Every thread of his life tied him to the detective, weaving them together to form something so much better than they were alone.

"Don’t ever leave me," Jim whispered. The arms around Sandburg tightened fractionally then released him and Blair found tears welling in his eyes. The gesture was so Jim; he begged Blair never to leave him and yet would let his Guide go if he thought Blair needed to be free. Ellison found a smile somewhere and nodded slightly. "The world awaits, Blair," and with a firm hand steering him along, Blair went through the door.

* * *

"Maybe we should open an account here," Blair joked as his partner drew the truck up in front of the Industrial Bank of Cascade. "Bet we could get a new toaster."

"Jim and Blair Sandburg-Ellison? Bit much to put on checks," Jim said. The sparkle of humour glittered in his eye but he said it seriously, "guess we could just combine them to Sandson or Ellisburg."

"Is this a proposal, Detective?"

"I’m not proposing anything," Jim told him matter-of-factly and a sudden wave of fear had Blair steeling himself but the older man’s next words deflated him with a noisy sigh, "I told you how it was, Chief." One hand captured Sandburg’s wrist, "I’ll stay with you as long as you want me."

"Ellisburg? Can you live with that for the rest of your life?" 

"If you come with it," Jim smiled, "then yeah, I can." He released Blair’s wrist and stepped from the truck. "Come on, Chief." The lobby was quiet, only a handful of people out at that early hour. Jim headed towards a desk marked SAFETY DEPOSITS and spoke in hushed tones to the redhead manning it. Blair watched his partner with admiration. Jim was a great cop, he had good instincts and he liked to help people. His solid presence had a way of reassuring people he wanted to do them no harm and his inherent politeness could win over the most reluctant witness. It was one of the things Blair found most endearing about his friend; Jim could be in the middle of chasing a mass murderer and still call apologies to the pedestrians he brushed aside. Must have been strict parents, Sandburg reasoned.

Ellison motioning him from the desk had Blair scurrying to his partner’s side. They were ushered to a small room lined with boxes. "Mr. Teajen will be along shortly to open the box, Sir," the redhead assured them before leaving.

"This is Lewin’s," Jim pointed to number 21-3, "Simon is sending over a warrant so anything we find can be used."

"What if we don’t find anything?" But Blair’s words didn’t come into play. When Teajen, a whey faced man in his fifties opened the box they had plenty of evidence to use against Cory Lewin. $19,500 in cash nestled snugly against a packet of negatives. Inside Jim found every photo sent to his father. And then some. 

"Lookit this, Blair," Jim commanded. He carefully held up a black ribbon of negatives by one corner and when Sandburg peered through them his mouth dropped open in loathing.

"God, Jim! This is disgusting!" His shudder of revulsion brought a heavy hand to rest on his neck and Jim’s body just a bit closer. "Cory must be blackmailing everyone!" The tiny reverse images showed a naked adult male figure standing beside two naked boys, his hands positioned intimately on their flesh. Each frame took the situation further and further from disgusting, depositing them at the door to perverted depravity. Sandburg dropped his gaze and fought the sickness which raced through him. He concentrated on the other objects in the narrow box. A passport with Cory’s picture but the name Sean Meyer, and a business card embossed with SHAFFER CORPORATION.

"Shaffer Corporation?" Ellison reached for the card, examining it carefully.

"What?" Blair asked. "You see or smell something?"

"Hmmm? Oh, no," Ellison shook his head, a frown making lines appear between his eyes. "No, it’s just that Shaffer’s company manufactures detergents, cleaning products and things." At Blair’s expectant nodded, he added, "the same as my father’s company." Understanding dawned in the anthropologist’s eyes.

"This....this guy," he shuddered at the thought this perverted piece of scum fell into the same category as other humans, "could be employed by the Shaffer Corporation. Let’s head over there and do a bit of detective work."

It was a small office building, not too elaborate but impressive enough. The receptionist hesitated to interrupt Mr. Greg Blaylock’s day but Ellison’s badge and stern expression changed her mind. They were shown into a walnut panelled office, their feet sinking into a thick beige carpet. Blair glanced around, noting the standard issue "corporate artworks" and the prerequisite grouping of diplomas on the wall behind the massive desk. "Detective Ellison?"

"I’m Ellison," Jim answered, extending his ID. "This is my partner, Blair Sandburg. We’d like to ask a few questions about Cory Lewin."

"Who?" Blaylock’s high brow furrowed and Blair saw Jim’s attention divert itself. He could tell now when his partner was using his senses, a slight tilt of his head indicated Jim was listening to something. Whatever it was, Ellison glanced at Sandburg and nodded slightly, signally he was happy with what he’d heard. 

"How about William Ellison and Washington Industries?"

"Them I’m aware of," Blaylock assured Jim. "I’ve known Bill Ellison for several years, his company is vying for the same partnership with Yamahita Industries that we are." Blaylock laughed, "Bill doesn’t give up but we need this merger with the Japanese to keep afloat so neither will I."

"Does that include blackmail?" Ellison moved closer, his stance aggressive. Blair couldn’t refrain from interfering, sometimes his partner didn’t know when he was coming on too strong.

"Mr. Blaylock, what my partner means to say is Mr. Ellison believes someone is trying to block his deal with Yamahita," Blair explained. "There’s a connection between Lewin and the Shaffer Corporation and we intend to find it." 

"I don’t know...." Blaylock began but an adjoining door opening cut him off.

"Greg," a voice called, "I’ve got the figures....oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were with someone." The intruder paused, a file in his hand, gaze questioning Blaylock.

"It’s okay, Tony," Blaylock assured him, "Tony Zeltton, he’s the head of our Research and Development. These two are Cascade detectives but they’re just leaving." Sandburg stepped closer to Jim, one hand coming to rest on the detective’s back. Ellison was staring at Zeltton, every fibre in Sandburg’s body told him his friend had shifted into Sentinel mode. Blair’s hand moved, sliding up the broad back until he touched Jim’s exposed neck. He could feel the warmth of Ellison’s skin and the tension locking his muscles into steel coils. 

"Does the name Cory Lewin mean anything to you?" Ellison asked Zeltton. 

"No, should it?" Zeltton stared back with cold green eyes. His sharp features looked as if they were carved from a block of ice but something, maybe some feeling he got from his contact with Ellison told Blair the iceman wasn’t as cool as he pretended.

"I’m not sure yet," Ellison purred. He smiled, a nasty expression which didn’t involve any emotion. "We’ll be in touch." With a quick glance at Sandburg he was striding out of the office. "Zeltton was lying," Jim hissed when they reached the street. "He’s a close match for the man in those negatives, same build and weight and when I mentioned Lewin his heart practically did the Macarena."

* * *

Tony Zeltton snatched up the ringing phone. "Yes!" 

"Tony," Cory Lewin’s voice purred in his ear. "Why the urgent beep? I told you you didn’t need to deliver the rest of the money until tonight."

"The cops were here, Cory," Zeltton whispered, "those two from the photos, Ellison and Sandburg."

"No need to worry about them, Tony," Lewin assured him. "If I was you I’d worry about anyone seeing the other photos, you know the ones I mean. The ones of you and the kiddies."

"Now look, Lewin," panic drove Zeltton to the brink, he clutched the edge of his desk until his fingers ached, "I want those negatives! I’ve paid you!"

"Not enough, Tony. I need a bit more to get myself out of the country."

"I never should have gotten mixed up with you," Zeltton swore.

"Yeah, next time you’ll stick with the little boys, huh?" Sarcasm rang in Lewin’s voice.

"I’m coming over now," Zeltton blurted, "I’ve got the money so bring the negatives." When he hung up the phone his hand slipped inside his desk drawer. The .45 Berrette caressed his hand like cool silk and brought a smile to his face. Cory Lewin had been a very costly mistake. He never should have let the young man pick him up at Big Jack’s, let alone talk him into sharing his special treat. Lewin hadn’t balked when he suggested they cruise a neighbourhood he’d been watching for a few weeks. Cory had even helped him snatch the two boys sleeping in their backyard tent and taken the photos as Tony enjoyed himself. He’d thought he had found a companion, a soul mate who shared his love of the forbidden and lust for blood that’s why he’d let Cory in on his business deal. Snap a few photos of the gay cop and his lover and drive Washington Industries from the race for Japanese support. But Cory had double crossed him, keeping a set of their secret negatives for his own profit. Well, it ended tonight one way or the other.

He drove through Cascade, winding among the back streets in case Ellison had decided to follow him. The Shaffer factory in Cascade had shut down a year earlier and stood sagging along the docks like a blight. He parked in a dark shed and made his way to the cosy little room he used for" entertaining" his friends. Every time Zeltton stepped across the threshold a shiver of anticipation ran down his spine. This was his shrine, his sanctuary, his only refuge and now it would be Cory Lewin’s grave. He slid back the door, waiting for the harsh smell of mouldering chemicals to wash over him, and stepped inside. Zeltton did not see the vintage Ford truck which pulled behind the building or the figure which moved with feline grace towards a shattered window.

* * *

After leaving Shaffer’s office Jim pressed $20 into Blair’s hand and ordered him to take a taxi to the university. He told Sandburg he wanted to watch Zeltton and see if he went anywhere. Ellison promised he’d come back after Blair’s last class and they’d make and early night of it. After getting his car at the loft, Sandburg found himself standing before Hargrove Hall.

To Sandburg it seemed as if his mind were running at double time as the entire campus suddenly began to move in slow motion. He taught a basic anthropology class to a group who just wanted a humanities credit, then retreated to his office for some studies of his own. Incacha had bequeathed the way of the shaman to him and finding out just exactly what he should be doing worried at the young man’s mind. He turned the pages of an aged book he’d found deep in the library’s bowels and lost himself in his reading. It was only when the pain in his neck intruded upon the words that Blair took any notice of the passing of time.

Blair checked his watch for the third time. It was no good, the hands were obviously frozen in place and all his willpower couldn’t free them. Ellison had promised to come by his office so they could share an early dinner. Blair smiled, just the sound of Jim’s voice echoing in his head could bring a sappy smile to his face. He found himself staring into space, hands idly chafing his arms as if to ward off a phantom chill. But it wasn’t the cold which plagued him, no his thoughts kept a fire burning deep down inside him. Jim loved him. This alien concept filled him, making his heart thunder and his eyes water. ‘You’re my life, Blair’ Jim’s words from the night before echoed through his head, chasing his own thoughts like dogs down a gravel road. He’d thought he had loved before meeting Jim but those pathetic emotions were faded photographs compared to what he felt for his Sentinel.

Sandburg sighed in contentment, bringing himself out of his reverie. He checked his watch once more, bewildered when the numbers blurred and twisted against the white face. Panic seared through his chest, catapulting his heart into his throat and every ounce of blood to his temples. As an incredible sense of foreboding swept over him, Blair clamped a hand to his head in an attempt to keep his brain from squirting through his eye sockets and a moan from escaping his lips. Jim, he had to get to Jim. He had to erase the feeling of dread gripping his heart like a black fist and he knew the only way to do it was to see his partner. He snatched up his phone, stabbing the numbers burned into his brain by a thousand calls, and sent a silent prayer out via AT&T. Ring after ring after ring he waited, ready to fling himself into whatever abyss he had to if it would assure him his Sentinel was alright. 

"Yeah?" Came a fuzzy voice, barely audible over the snapping and hissing of the line. 

"Jim?" The relief he felt was short lived, Ellison sounded strange, his breath an unrecognisable rasp in Blair’s ear. "Jim?" He repeated, "what’s wrong?"

".......Lewin....river front.........the factory........" The line went dead, severing the only link Blair had to his partner and leaving him adrift in a dark, dark place. Every fibre in his body screamed at Sandburg, urging him to move, to rush to his partner’s side and help him, but his body betrayed him. Blair ordered his legs to hold him up as he stood, his heart to pump blood to his limbs, his mind to function but all he could do was sit there and stare with horror at the phone in his hand.

Jim needed help! Something had gone wrong and his Sentinel was out there all alone. Blair slammed the receiver down, snatching it up again immediately and dialling Simon Banks’ office. The Captain’s distracted voice growled in his ear and for once Blair was filled with relief at the tone.

"Simon, it’s Blair," he let the words tumble over each other, one hand running through his hair as he struggled to get his point across.

"What is it Sandburg?" Some note of desperation must have penetrated the connection, Blair could almost picture Simon sitting up straighter. "What’s wrong?"

"It’s Jim, he just called, man. He was....he was gasping, he needed help. Simon, I’ve got to get to him!"

"Calm down, Blair," Simon ordered. "Now, what did he say? Did he give a location? Anything we can use?"

Sandburg forced oxygen into his brain, taking deep breaths, he concentrated on the words Jim had managed to utter before the line when dead. "He said...Lewin. Ah, Lewin, river front and something else....," he ran the few panic filled seconds through his mind again. God, what if he lost Jim? What would become of him? Jim was everything to him now; his career, his hopes and dreams, his total reason for being. You’re my life, Blair. But I won’t be your death. "Factory! He said factory, Simon."

"Okay," Banks snapped, "stay put, Sandburg. I’ll send a car for you."

"No!" Blair jumped to his feet, pacing as far as the cord would let him, his mind racing to find words Simon might believe, "no, I’m staying here Simon." The lie slipped off his tongue with ease, not even causing the slightest twinge of guilt, "Jim might call again."

"Sandburg," the name came out a warning, "Blair do not do anything foolish. Jim would die if I let anything happen to you."

"I know," Blair whispered. "I know, Simon." He hung up the phone, Simon’s voice cut off in mid-shout. He couldn’t just sit still and let Jim die, he had to think. Taking a deep breath he sat down at his desk, a clean sheet of paper before him. Working rapidly Blair wrote out everything he knew about Lewin, everything he could remember from what Lisa’s roommate had said and everything he’d ever heard about the undergraduate. Three minutes later he was rushing for the door.

* * *

Sandburg stepped from the car and tossed the cell phone on the seat. He hoped Banks got his message but there was no time to wait, Jim was in trouble. Ellison had drilled caution into him, Blair smiled as the Sentinel’s voice filled his head Be careful, Chief was as clear as if Jim were standing before him. He circled the building, keeping to the shadows, a window overlooking the bay provided the entrance he needed. Blair scrambled up onto a crate, twisting his small body through a smaller opening. Patches of sunlight painted pools on the dirty floor and the overpowering scent of chemicals made his eyes water. Oh, shit, Sandburg thought, this would knock Jim on his ass. 

A sound drew his attention, the plink of a silenced pistol, a sound he knew very well. Long unused machines offered the safety of cover and Blair stayed well hidden as he moved closer. Voices echoed ahead, bouncing off the walls and the rusting giants standing silent guard. He didn’t need sentinel hearing to recognise Jim’s voice, it was the most familiar sound in the world to him. He’d heard his partner in the heat of anger and the depths of sorrow and every emotion in-between and right now he could heard the cool reasonable tones Ellison used to convince people they’d be better off doing as he asked.

"We have Lewin’s safety deposit box," Jim was saying, "we saw the photos. I can get you some help here Zeltton. Just put down the gun." Blair edged further into the factory, when he peered around a conveyor belt he saw Jim and Zeltton. Lewin was sprawled on his back, dead eyes staring on either side of a ragged, bloody hole. Ellison and Zeltton were facing each other from behind large, rusty barrels, guns drawn and ready. Blair’s stomach clenched tight as he watched Zeltton, the man shook as if buffeted by a strong wind. His gaze darted between Ellison and the door as he weighed the chances of escape. "It’s no good, Zeltton," Jim warned. "We know you hired Lewin to blackmail my father’s company and I think there’s enough evidence here and in those photos to convict you of murdering those two boys." 

"Come on, detective," Zeltton pleaded, "you can’t fault me for that. Sweet, tender flesh, you know what I’m talking about." The businessman laughed, spittle flying from his lips and a shiver raced down Sandburg’s spine. "You’ve got your young friend. Oh, he’s hot. Was he cherry when you got him? Did you hold him down, feel your blood pumping like molten lead as you rammed him? It’s heaven, Ellison," Zeltton continued, oblivious to the clenched jaw and icy glare of his audience.

"It’s over, Zeltton," Jim shouted.

Sandburg heard the words, the deep thundering anger in his partner’s voice, and knew it was over. The world took on the surreal quality of a Fellini movie, everything moved in slow motion, each action crystal clear in the stark black and white film of his mind. Zeltton shoved the barrel he hid behind, sending it rolling towards Ellison as he sprinted for the door, firing as he ran. A white cloud of powder blossomed from the rusted barrel like dandelion fuzz on the breeze, drifting straight for Jim. Ellison staggered, enveloped by the cloud for a split second before he could return fire, and Zeltton’s lucky shot found its target. Blair could hear Jim’s rasping cough even above the sound of his pistol, but the sentinel managed to bring down Zeltton just before the man reached the freedom of the open door. Just about to give into his relief, Sandburg watched in horror as Jim collapsed to his knees and then fell to the dirty floor and lay unmoving.

Blair had witnessed the shock of pain etched across his partner’s face as a single bullet ripped through Jim’s shoulder, feeling the agonising blast as if it were his own flesh. The sight stayed with him long after his scream had died away. Individual drops of blood flew like tiny redbirds startled from their nest by the gunplay and Jim’s body pitched forward. He sprinted from his hiding place, running straight for Ellison. Hot, sticky blood sanctifying his presence and he knelt beside the fallen Sentinel. 

"Jim? Jim?" Harsh, raking coughs shook the detective, lungs fighting the effects of whatever had been in the barrel. He gasped and wheezed as the powder danced through the air. Blair turned him, holding the larger man braced against his knees, his hand pressed to the seeping wound as Ellison struggled for breath. Tears streamed down Jim’s cheeks and his face was flushed from his efforts to inhale but his hand sought Blair’s and his fingers tightened painfully.

"Chief?" A whisper of breath touched Sandburg’s cheek, drying the sob which threatened to spill from his lips. He opened his eyes and stared down into the streaming blue depths of his partner’s. "Blair....make...make sure he’s dead," Ellison ordered, gesturing feebly towards Zeltton’s crumpled body. "Do it, Blair."

Sandburg gently lowered his burden to the cold floor and went to check on the other man. Jim’s bullet had struck accurately; blood still trickled from a wound directly over his heart. Kicking the gun away, Blair checked on Lewin, knowing he was dead but doing it to satisfy Jim’s need to know there was no threat. The shrill wail of a siren brought him rushing back to Ellison’s side. "Simon’s on his way Jim, an ambulance won’t be far behind." He slipped behind Jim, keeping one hand pressed to the wound, the other stroking his lover’s forehead. "Concentrate on my voice and keep breathing. Just keep breathing."

"You did good, Chief," the scratchy sound of Jim’s voice was barely audible above the sirens. "I’m proud of you." A scorching ache spread across Sandburg’s soul as Jim’s smouldering gaze locked with his. He leaned down and brushed his lips across his partner’s, tasting salt and sweat but comforted by the warmth. Ellison shifted slightly, moaning as the pain increased and his coughing intensified. 

"Don’t move, love," Blair soothed. "I thought I’d lost you, Jim. When you went down I thought I was all alone again." He couldn’t hide the fear quiver racing through his soul, "you said we’d always be together."

"I promise, Blair," Jim said and Sandburg believed him. The scuffle of numerous feet brought his head up and the sight of Simon Banks leading a dozen cops towards them brought a smile. 

* * *

"Hey, Jim," Sandburg called as he entered the loft. He carried a bag of groceries and, after noting his partner’s feet propped on the back of the couch, set about putting them away. He lost himself in the mundane routine of their life, glad that he had a chance to experience it again. Ellison had spent several days in the hospital, his shoulder a clean wound but his allergic reaction to the chemicals Zeltton had spilled on him serious enough to keep Blair at his side for twenty-four hours straight. But now they were home and Simon had gifted his best detective and his partner with three days of freedom. Blair had thought Ellison would welcome the time off as a chance to cement the change in their partnership but Jim had been silent and moody, keeping his distance. That was about to change, Sandburg decided as he fished out two cold bottles of water and headed for the living room.

"So, we are officially non-famine endangered," Blair joked. He sat down on the coffee table facing Jim but the detective didn’t respond except for a brief lift of his lips. Sandburg sighed and reached for Jim’s hand but his partner fended him off, sitting up and sliding back until he was wedged in the corner. "Jim? What...what is it?" He reached out again but Ellison’s flinch was like a fist to the gut.

"I’m not like that, Blair," desperate panic, edged Jim’s voice and when he met Blair’s gaze the younger man saw dazed confusion. "I’d never hurt you. I’d die first."

"Jim?" Blair hesitated, blinking slowly as he pieced together the Sentinel’s words and actions. Of course Jim would never hurt him, he never had what would make him think he was capable of it now? The detective radiated conflict; his tortured expression and dull eyes showed his pain, his need for Blair’s companionship but the ridged posture and refusal to allow Sandburg’s help showed his fear. Blair worried at the problem, turning it over and over like a Rubic Cube. Unconsciously his hand sought Jim’s and when the other man’s fingers twisted around his understanding blossomed. Jim somehow equated Zeltton’s savagery with the love they had for each other.

"Jim, listen to me," he whispered, "I love you. You wouldn’t hurt me, you couldn’t. Just like I can’t hurt you. Remember when I got toasted on Golden? Huh? Remember? I was scared, man, totally freaked!" A chill, black silence seemed to swallow his words as the Sentinel sat staring at him. Blair cleared his throat, he breathed in shallow, quick gasps as the terror of being so close to killing Jim came back but his words still held strength, "I was all alone and everything wanted to hurt me. I wanted to kill everyone who got close to me," he finished with shame.

"I got close." The words were faint, as if they came from some far away place where humans had not ventured.

"Yeah," Blair agreed, moving until he could kneel before his friend. "Yeah, you got close. Your voice, Jim, it reached through the darkness and touched me. Deep in my head I knew you’d protect me. You wouldn’t harm me no matter what I saw or felt. You look out for me. You’re always there when I need you."

His words seemed to have some effect. Jim relaxed, his expression softened and one hand reached out to stroke across Sandburg’s chin. "Me, too, Blair," he sighed. "I wasn’t scared of being blind because I had you beside me."

"Right, Jim. We’re there for each other, we count on each other." Sandburg struggled to find the right words, some way to explain what he felt. "What’s between us isn’t bad, Jim. Not when it’s built on love. I want to make you happy, I don’t ever want you to be alone."

"Blair, does this mean you won’t want to go away?" Sandburg heard the sharp breath Jim drew in, felt the way Ellison steeled himself for the answer, as if for a blow.

"No, Jim, I won’t want to go away." He pressed himself into the Sentinel’s arms, seeking shelter and offering comfort. "The photos, Jim, remember our expressions? That was before we made love. That’s what we have, what binds us soul to soul." He pulled back and brushed a kiss across Jim’s lips, caressing more than kissing. For a long moment Jim didn’t respond, the lips beneath his were hard and cold but as he continued to fondle the unwilling mouth, a thaw set in. Ellison moaned, a deep, low sound which could be felt by both men. Hands crept around Sandburg’s waist, strong arms pulled him up until he straddled Ellison’s lap. They kissed for a long time, tongues entwining, breath mingling in gasps and sighs.

"Blair, I love you," Jim swore. His hands burrowed under Blair’s shirt, his touch painfully teasing. The urgency of that touch ripped through Blair, sending his own senses reeling and for a split second he wondered what the effect was on Jim, but then Ellison’s fingers found his nipple and thought fled in a hiss of pleasure. Currents of desire curled outwards from his chest, rippling along his nerves until it hit his groin. The younger man allowed himself to be lifted, Jim manoeuvring them both to the floor with only a single gasp as his shoulder pulled. Ellison’s mouth covered Blair’s face, kissing and licking each inch of his skin as his body settled like a heavy blanket. Before he knew it, Blair found his shirt open, his jeans being pulled down.

Heat coursed through Blair’s body as his lover’s touch sought out his pleasure. Jim knew just what he wanted, knew how to make him moan and quiver with desire. Large hands whispered through his hair, pulling him face to face with Ellison’s hungry mouth for a ravishing kiss before Jim began planting burning caresses down Sandburg’s writhing body. Each place Jim touched scorched Blair’s soul, he cried out and was soothed by gentle hands. His own hands explored the powerful back, pushing Jim’s shirt up to expose the silky skin stretched over hard muscles. He lay panting as Jim reached his goal and his stiff cock was enveloped by a hot mouth. Blair couldn’t control the wild bucking of his hips, the helpless thrashing of his head, as Jim teased him. His fingers clawed skin, marking Ellison as his own while Jim plundered him. With a hoarse shout, Blair thrust deep in Ellison’s mouth his pleasure scolding them both. 

Gentle hands brushing his hair back, roused Sandburg. He squinted up at the face leaning over him, "J-jim?"

"Who else?" The Sentinel questioned. "Mmm, you taste wonderful," Jim murmured as he planted a kiss on Blair’s open lips. "You’re just what the doctor ordered."

Blair pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his jeans pocket, squinting to make out the words. "Painkillers, plenty of rest, nope don’t see my name on here anywh..."

Ellison didn’t give him a chance to finish. The paper was ripped from Sandburg’s fingers, snatched a pen off the coffee table and frantically scribbled something. Satisfied he handed the paper back to Blair and waited. "Ah, here it is," Blair murmured, "You are correct, Detective Ellison. This prescription says I’m to give you....there must be some mistake. It says I ‘m to give you a kiss! I’m sorry, detective, but I’m not that kind of man."

"Oh, yes you are," Jim purred. "I’ve got the photos to prove it." He leaned closer, taking his medicine like a man. Silence enveloped the loft as they lay chest to chest arms around each other. Blair wanted to stay like that forever, he never wanted to lose the closeness he felt at that moment to his Sentinel. He’d found everything he ever wanted right here in Cascade, Washington after travelling around the world. Life was like that sometimes, he mused, the harder you searched the more elusive your goal. Often it paid to just sit back and let the treasure fall into you lap. Blair choked on his giggle, the treasure in his lap right now hadn’t exactly fallen there, Jim had been dragged there kicking and screaming. 

"What’s so funny, Chief?" Jim asked.

"Nothing, man," Blair lied, "I’m just cheerful after sex." A sudden thought made him look down, "uh, Jim, you like need..." his hand pumped the air, eyes wide with questioning.

"No, I think you screaming like a hyena pushed me right over the edge."

"Hyenas laugh not scream," Sandburg informed.

"Whatever. Look, maybe we should get cleaned up." Ellison levered himself up, groaning as he did.

"Jim! Let me help, okay?" Blair slid out from under him, bending down to offer a shoulder for Ellison to lean on.

"Chief, zip you jeans before I’m forced to arrest you for indecent exposure."

"Wanna talk indecent?" Blair mumbled as he tucked himself in and zipped up. "I think you qualify right now." He gaze came to rest pointedly on Jim’s crotch, "need a hand with that, big guy?"

A mutual shower had them both presentable again and Blair set about making them some dinner while Ellison relaxed. A knock on the door startled them both, bringing a gasp from Jim as he woke from his doze and a muffled curse from Blair as a glass slipped from his hand.

"You okay?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Blair bent to clean up the mess and from his vantage point on the floor saw Jim take an involuntary step back as he opened the door.

"Pop! What are you doing here?" Ellison’s grim expression carried no more warmth than his words had. Sandburg found himself moving to stand beside his partner, offering the only thing he could, his support.

"Jimmy," William Ellison admonished, "I just came by to thank you." Somehow his sour look didn’t bring to mind gratitude as far as Blair was concerned. He watched the older man enter, cold eyes sweeping the loft and all it’s furnishings. "Some place you got here, boy. Very cosy." He tossed Sandburg a look which had the younger man bristling with anger. 

"Are you done?" Came Jim’s stiff reply. "Blair and I have things to do."

"You save me twenty million dollars the least I can do is try to mend fences," William reasoned. "I’ve come to make you an offer, Jimmy." His stony features twisted in to something which might have been a smile. "I’ll sign over half the company to you right now. All I want you to do is leave Cascade and come back to Tacoma."

"Dad," Jim began but the older man cut him off.

"Jimmy, you were always my favourite. I built this company to pass along to my eldest son, don’t disappoint me."

"Why stop now," Jim snared. He moved closer, looming over his father with all the menace he could muster. Blair shivered, the beautiful man he’d held only an hour ago had transformed himself into this warrior. "According to you I’ve been a disappointment to you since I drew breath."

"You can change, son," Bill assured him, "it’s not good for you to be here. Too many unhealthy elements in Cascade."

Understanding lit Jim’s face, he turned an astounded face towards Blair. "I get it. You want me to leave Blair. You want me to desert my life and reform myself in the Great William Ellison’s likeness."

"Come on, son," Bill’s voice dropped, glacier cold his words hung between him and his son, "you just need to get away from this...this hippie kid. We all make mistakes, but they can be corrected."

"Yeah, they can." Jim smiled, his eyes so hard and flat that they looked like bits of stone set in his face. "You’d better leave now, Pop, and don’t bother ever coming by again."

Bill Ellison stared at his son for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching in a disturbingly familiar way. And then he was moving, his stocky body displacing the air like a battleship steaming for open sea. Blair released the breath he’d been holding and sagged into the nearest chair. Even the slamming of the door didn’t rouse him from his stupor, only the touch of his partner’s hand on his shoulder accomplished it.

"You okay, Chief?" Jim asked quietly.

"Yeah," Blair whispered. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked up into bright blue eyes. "Jim, you sure you don’t want to think about what your father offered? It sounds like he really wanted you to help him run his company."

Jim stared at him, face a blank where Blair conjured images of anger but then a sigh broke from the Sentinel’s lips and he crouched down to stare into Blair’s eyes. "Blair," he started only to pause and look away, "my father wants me there that’s true, but not to help him. Steven was always more interested in business than I was. Pop never forgave me for that, let me tell you. I was suppose to take over for the old man when he retired. You should have seen his face when I announced I was heading into the army." Jim shook his head, a rueful grin spread across his features, "he was so angry. He beat the crap outta me, I was lucky he didn’t kill me. I swore right then and there that I’d never let him run my life. I followed my heart." His hand found Blair’s, raising it to his lips to plant a kiss against his palm. "And it lead me straight to you."

"Yeah, and away from your family, money, a home." Sandburg shrugged, "all you get with me is a student loan debt the size of a third world country’s GNP, a guitar autographed by Jimi Hendrix and about a thousand textbooks. "

"Exactly what I’ve always wanted," Jim assured him. "I also get a best friend, a dedicated partner, a knowledgeable Guide, and the most fantastic lover I’ve ever had." He kissed a path up the younger man’s arm, pausing to nuzzled Blair’s throat. "I also get the love of my life and the person I want to spend forever with." He pulled back and stared into Sandburg’s eyes, "I think I have everything I could ever want."

Happiness swelled up inside Blair, pushing his heart from his chest to his throat where it lodged and refused to let him speak. His fingers combed through Jim’s hair, teasing the short, silky strands into gentle waves. When his vocal cords again responded to his commands, Blair smiled and leaned close to whisper in his lover’s ear, "push over." 

 

End…


End file.
